On Hollantide
by Valeska Vampire Queen
Summary: Ten years ago, a passing Goblin King saved a girl from malicious fae. He thought little of it, but when they start to haunt both her dreams and her waking both king and woman find themselves facing an adversary that threatens her life and his kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my plot, original characters and pet sea-monkeys (although they have been showing signs of plotting revolution lately so we'll have to see about that last item).**

**My first Labyrinth fanfic, I hope you enjoy it.**

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It was a ballroom this time and the party was in full swing. The room was decked out magnificently and packed with people; men and women in rich silks and velvets; some whirling together on the floor while others lounged indolently against the pillars. It seemed to her that everyone; lords, ladies, maids and footmen were watching her closely; their eyes glittering beneath their masks. _

_She was dressed like a lady, her gown full-skirted and plunged low between her breasts; and this somehow made her uncomfortable; unused as she was to clothing like this. That was the first concrete fact that she could remember grasping here, that the smooth silk, the long gloves and the heavy jewellery felt strange against her skin. Everyone else in the room was masked, some in discreet eye masks but others with horns and snouts protruding, but her face was bare; it made her feel almost naked. She wasn't even sure how long she'd been here; it could have been minutes or hours, but she knew that she didn't belong here and these people would not let her forget it, even though it was alright because he had invited her. She couldn't yet remember who 'he' was but she knew that everything would be alright once he arrived, and until he did so there was nothing for it but to wait. _

_She stood stiffly against a pillar with a glass of something that an attendant had pressed into her hand, but somehow she knew that it wasn't safe to drink it. A dark-haired man in a silk shirt open to his waist and tight velvet breeches asked her to dance while openly assessing her figure - she brushed him off, her eyes flicking nervously back towards the double doors. Finally, when she could bear it no longer she told a voluptuous woman who had appeared at her side and was snickering at her from behind her fan that she was going to go and look for him, and she replied in a voice that was calm and melodious but hid something uneasy to go but to hurry back._

_When she had passed through the double doors; her heart pounding with a fear that she could not understand she risked a glance behind her and saw the woman watching her closely. Outside the ballroom it was no better; here too she was not alone. Though in the half–light of the torches she caught glimpses of several couples twined sensually together against the walls. Embarrassed, she averted her eyes and looked frantically up and down the corridor for him – the fact that she could not remember what he looked like never entered her head – she was sure she would know him when she saw him. He was not in the corridor now. She took a deep breath and headed along it; trying to appear as though she knew where she was going, but behind her the couples had stilled and were whispering behind their hands. She didn't have to turn to know that they were all staring at her, and there was evil in their stares._

"You still coming for that drink later Cait?"

The dream shattered and Caitlin found herself back at her desk with her head on her arms, her back and neck aching from the cramped position. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breathing was harsh and ragged.

"Cait?" The voice queried, concern in its tone, and Caitlin forced herself to relax and sit up.

"Sorry Jess," she said, massaging her aching temples, "I just dozed off."

"You'll have to be careful with that at the moment Cait," she said, stepping into the office cubicle, "Colin's been checking up on us again -," she paused as she took a closer look at her friend and sighed. "You've been having that dream again haven't you?" Caitlin nodded wearily. "And you still can't remember what it's about?"

"Still nothing Jess," Caitlin muttered, somewhat ashamed at lying to her friend. Jess gave her a long look before sighing, dropping her pile of magazines onto the desk and perching on the edge of it.

"I only have a minute…but seriously Cait you've had a few of these now – they keep you up all night and then you doze off at work–"

"I know Jess but what am I supposed to do?" The question came out louder and harsher than Caitlin had intended; she regretted her outburst when she saw Jess wince at her tone.

"Sorry hon but it's not as though I enjoy having them," she whispered, "and anyway I haven't had all that many – they'll probably just stop on their own."

"Well you'll need to do something soon anyway." Jess said firmly.

"I'll think about it," Caitlin mumbled, turning away from her friend as she knew full well that she had no intention of doing so. Jess was watching her intently, and Caitlin stood up and grabbed her mug full of lukewarm coffee, "Like a drink?" she asked, "I was about to get one". Usually her friend would have seen right through the ploy to distract her, but she had just glanced at her watch and seeing the time jumped down from the desk.

"No thanks Cait," she said, "I need to report back to Colin – he sent me down to the archive room to find him some issue from ten years ago – took me bloody ages but I've got it now." She tapped the offending magazine with one bitten fingernail. "So, we still on for that drink – it might make you feel better."

Caitlin shook her head apologetically, "Sorry Jess but I really can't – Stacey called in sick this morning and Colin's given me a ton of her stuff to do – I probably won't be leaving here till six." She would be here alone for at least an hour after everyone left, Caitlin realised for the first time. Her hand reached instinctively up to her neck to grasp the chain whose pendant lay hidden under her blouse – a stone, worn smooth with a hole in the centre.

Jess rolled her eyes, distracted by the mention of Stacey she hadn't noticed Caitlin's movement. "That's the second time this month she's done this to us – no wonder Colin was in such a strop this morning. Can you come out tomorrow?"

"Maybe, depends how much of this," – she gestured to her overflowing in-tray –"that I can get done tonight."

"Looks like fun," Jess said with a grimace. Her eyes came to rest on a poster tacked to Caitlin's cubicle wall, which, like most of the others in their office, was festooned with pin-ups and posters. This one was positioned just above Caitlin's desk; a fantasy battle scene in watercolours.

"New poster?"

"Yep, got it yesterday from that new fantasy shop in Camden."

"Nice," she said, "Another Arthur Rackham one?" Caitlin grinned and shook her head.

"Alan Lee – it's supposed to be the Daioine Sidhe in battle."

Jess grinned. "Whatever you say Caitlin, but I think I'll stick with Johnny Depp pinups above my desk."

"Fair enough," Cailtin laughed, "Alright then, I'll see you later."

When Jess had vanished around the cubicle wall she got up herself, stretched and headed for the coffee machine in the corner, chuckling to herself. Jess, like all her friends found her preoccupation with fairies and fantasy creatures somewhat strange – but most of the time they just shrugged their shoulders and ignored it. Caitlin however knew that their idea of fairies was limited to their twee depictions in Disney films. In her teens when she had devoured books on Irish mythology Caitlin had learned how far that idea had been diluted from the handsome, skilled and powerful Sidhe that she had discovered. Back then she had briefly entertained hopes of becoming a fantasy artist, but though her sketches were passable they were nothing compared to the various works she had dotted about her cubicle, and no matter how hard she tried they could never be anything close to the scenes she could dream up in her head. Eventually she had decided that if she could not draw these scenes, she would instead write them, and though her first stories, scribbled in an old school exercise book had been cringe-worthy, hard work and practice had eventually paid off and a few of her latest had been published in fantasy anthologies. She was beginning to make a name for herself as a writer, and dreamed that perhaps, in a few years she could pack in her job as a journalist and live off her stories alone. Her fairly junior position at a North London magazine meant that her colleagues were always offloading extra work onto her. Glancing at the clock she picked up her drink and headed back to her cubicle to make a start on today's lot.

A flicker of movement on her desk caught Caitlin's eye as she entered, and she whirled towards it, but apart from her computer and overflowing in-tray the desk was empty. _Not enough sleep_. The thought slipped smoothly into her head as it always did in moments like this, though she knew that the statement was true this rational explanation no longer provided the comfort it had a month ago. A nervous knot tightened in her stomach as she remembered that she would have to work here alone tonight. Briefly, she considered going to Colin and making some excuse; she was sick herself, there was some family emergency and she would have to leave immediately, but, tempting though the thought was she forced herself to abandon it and sat down resolutely in front of her computer. She worked sporadically for a few minutes; her mind continually slipping back to her dream. In the last month she had experienced several like it that always followed the same pattern - at every one she had been alone at a gathering; waiting for someone to come in a crowd where she knew no-one and where she knew she didn't belong – a crowd that seemed suspicious of her and somehow hostile. Unlike most dreams which faded almost immediately the details of these stayed firmly engrained in her mind. However, though the dreams, the little flashes of movement and frequent sensations of being watched could be explained by an over-active imagination, the fact that the stone around her neck sometimes grew hot against her skin could not.

There was only one person she knew of who might provide an explanation, and since that latest development had occurred in the night right after a particularly vivid and unsettling dream she had considered calling him but had always stopped herself before she had actually done so – she didn't think she could cope with the disappointment if he wouldn't come. So today, like many other days for weeks she forced the dream to the back of her mind and tried to concentrate. She had some success, at least in the next few minutes she grew so absorbed that she failed to notice the indignant voices of her colleagues about the inexplicable drop in temperature that did not seem to affect anywhere else in the building, nor the slight movement as a bow of red ribbon that hung on her cubicle wall was tweaked from its pin as though by an invisible hand and fluttered uselessly to the floor. Perhaps if she had, when the pendant and silver chain she wore grew warm enough to burn the skin of her neck she would not have torn it off with a little cry, nor left it lying on her desk hours later when finally, she grabbed her coat and bag and made a speedy exit from the freezing, empty office.

.:I:.

Rain had been threatening when Caitlin had left her office and walked down to the Underground station so she could get the train home, and by the time she emerged from her stop it was falling heavily. The atmosphere in the office had been oppressive ever since Jess had said goodnight and the heavy door had banged shut behind her; the sound echoing in the now-empty room. To her surprise however things had not been as she had expected; yes the room had been uncharacteristically chilly and several times she had thought she heard pattering footsteps, but in the two hours while she cleared out her in-tray there had been nothing more than that.

The oppressive feeling had vanished entirely when she left her office, and her mood had lifted so much by the time she had reached her tube stop that, though other commuters made a mad dash for shelter from the rain Caitlin had laughed and run the rest of the way home, though she regretted it when she reached her street and several teenage boys at a bus-stop had laughed and made obscene gestures at the way her sodden blouse clung tightly to her curves. Caitlin scowled at them but blushed a little as she realised the state her little run had left her in; her clothes sodden and her long red hair drenched and hanging in rat-tails around her face. Charlotte Porter, her neighbour upstairs shook her head at her she passed her in the hallway on her way out.

The flat Caitlin entered was tiny; just one bedroom, a bathroom and a combined kitchen-living-room, but until her stories started selling better it was all she could afford. At least it was decorated to her tastes; framed fantasy art posters adorned the walls in her bedroom, while the ones in her living room contained as much shelving as she could possibly fit there, all of which was stuffed full of books.

By the time she had dried off and eaten some dinner it was almost nine o' clock, and exhausted though she was from the long day's work Caitlin settled herself down before another computer. She had learned very early on in her writing career that unless she was strict with herself and wrote each night her stories would never get themselves done, so now, no matter how tired she was she always forced herself to put in at least an hour each night. Sometimes she would see little flickers of movement in shadows in her room as she wrote; they followed her to her flat too, but tonight she saw nothing.

At half past ten Caitlin closed down her computer to go to bed. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance – the sound calling uneasy memories to Caitlin's mind. When she had finally lain down for bed her fingers crept to her neck uneasily to grasp her pendant. Her heart sank into her feet when they encountered nothing; she had left it lying, forgotten on her desk. Tonight then would be a particularly bad one.

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**Well that was Chapter One, what do we think? I would appreciate any and all constructive criticism so please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey readers, hope you've all had a good week - here's your next installment.**

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_There was muffled music coming from somewhere – a melody she knew well but could not yet place, and, much closer, the hushed voices of many people around her whispering behind their hands. It took her a few moments to realise that she was back in the castle corridor, and that it was no longer safe to stay here. She could not wait for him – but she knew the moment they saw her running they would be after her, so she kept her steps slow and even until she reached the castle door. It was shut and bolted heavily - for a moment she did not think that she would be able to draw them back – but with a brief struggle they moved. The door was another struggle to open and she had not the strength to hold it still behind her and it shut with a boom. _

_Now all she could hear was her own breathing and the silence seemed suffocating. She was outdoors but there were none of the sounds she associated with it; no birds sang in the nearby forest – there was no chirp of insects in the grass – even the air itself was close. There was an air of expectancy – as though everything were waiting for something to happen and this feeling was somehow familiar though she could not remember where she had felt it before. _

_Caitlin knew that she had to leave here and seek the shelter of the nearby woods but the feeling was holding her spellbound. Eventually she set off at a slow walk that try as she might she could not increase – her legs would barely respond to the commands of her mind. Then it was broken as soon as she stepped under the trees, there was a tramp of heavy feet that echoed from inside the castle, and Caitlin forced her legs to run._

_The wood seemed almost alive – trees creaked and groaned in a wind she could not feel. It seemed only moments before she heard shouts and running horses behind her – yet she dared not look back and forced her legs to move faster. Twigs snatched at her hair and gown and roots threatened to send her sprawling –even the forest seemed intent on delivering her straight into the hunter's arms – she could hear them closer now; horses hooves echoed like thunder and now she could discern the occasional baying bark of a hunting hound. A few more minutes and they had her in sight; a quick look behind her showed her that these were not ballroom fops but soldiers armed with swords and lances. They could see her plainly, but not once did they cry out; instead, the one at their head – a broad man with dark hair and beard in heavy armour instead, called to her in her head. He told her it was useless; she could never win and should just give up the attempt now and let them take her – Caitlin ignored him and kept on running though her legs were aching and her lungs felt as though they were on fire. They were fifty yards away, then thirty, then ten, and then her foot caught in a tree-root that she was sure had not been there before and she slammed into the ground. She lay winded and helpless with the thundering hooves coming closer and closer and closer._

.:I:.

Startled from her dream, Caitlin moaned and rolled over – there were footsteps on the stairs – it took her a moment to register that it was her Charlotte returning. High-pitched giggling echoed from above and Caitlin grinned – it must have been some night out to put the usually stuffy and straight-laced Charlotte into such a state. Rain was spattering hard against her bedroom window now – although the muffled thunder was still some distance away. Caitlin reached for the glass on the bedside table and gulped down some water, then lay down again. This was the first time her dreams had progressed beyond the gathering with the strange crowd who certainly to be hostile now. The rhythmic pattern of the rain was soothing, and Caitlin felt her eyes closing again.

.:I:.

_Spiral-sparkles of feeling were prickling down her arms, her head felt heavy and her shoulders ached, yet when she tried to clutch her arms to her chest they wouldn't move. A jolt of shock went through her stomach and her eyes shot open, but the room was dark and she could see nothing. They had her finally; she knew it just as she had known when the dreams started weeks ago that they were not to be trusted. She was in some sort of dungeon – she could not see just yet but she could feel chains tight against her skin on her wrists and ankles holding her fast against a wall. _

_She pushed against the chains, and when they wouldn't move she felt herself beginning to panic and fought against them in earnest - she writhed against them with all the strength she had; her long red hair, loose from its elaborate hairstyle flicking over her shoulders as she struggled, and she couldn't feel the deep bite of the chains until her panic had eased and she slumped breathless in their grip. _

_When she had regained her breath she looked about her. The room had no light except for a coal brazier placed in its centre which gave a small golden glow all around it. In this light she could tell that she was in a square room, small and low-ceilinged with a stout iron door in the wall opposite her. There was a table next to the brazier and its contents glittered slightly, reflecting its light, though she could not yet tell what was on it. The room was empty but for her, though she could tell that they were close by._

_They were not long in coming. Before her eyes had adjusted to the dark there was a dull creak as the door swung open. Caitlin screwed her eyes up at the sudden light and so missed seeing the figure who had entered properly. Before she could recover hard, callused hands were on her and quickly tore what remained of her ballgown from her, leaving her bare and sweating in the chains._

_When she could see again she found that the figure had turned away from her and was attending to the brazier. He was shorter than any man she had seen before, but his size did not make his appearance less threatening – he was broad and strong with long black hair and beard, and in places his white garments were stained red. Her eyes must have adjusted now to the darkness for now she could make out the contents of the table beside it – blades of different sizes, pincers and tongs. Despite the presence of the man, she could not hold back a quiet moan. _

_The dwarf smiled and placed a finger to her lips. "Quiet. You have nothing to fear if you tell us what we want to know," he said. "It has taken us some time to lay hold of you and we will take what we need from you by whatever means necessary."_

_Something inside Caitlin snapped. "Nothing to fear?" she was laughing hysterically. "You have hunted me, chained me, stripped me and now you plan to force me to –" _

_His hand connected with her cheek in a sharp slap that echoed around the tiny chamber._

"_Enough," he hissed._

_He turned back to the brazier – Caitlin realised that a long handle was protruding from its flames. "What do you want?" she muttered._

"_My lord is _very _anxious to hear all you know of your beau and his plans." The dwarf said._

_Her beau. She had waited for him at every gathering since her dreams had begun but he had never appeared. All she knew of him – or at least all she could remember right now was that he was of these people while she was not. _

"_But I don't even know his name," she said softly, more to herself than to the dwarf, though he heard her anyway._

"_Are you fool enough to think that you could convince us with such talk?" he scoffed. He was pulling something from the brazier as they spoke though Caitlin could not quite see what it was, only that in places it had grown white-hot. Involuntarily she strained at the chains as he came closer, holding the blade in front of him, acutely aware now that her entire body was naked and exposed. He grabbed a hank of hair with one hand and twisted it, holding her head still so she could not look away, and with his other held the object up to her face; a long thin blade that was red hot in places and white hot in others._

"_You will tell us what he's planning."_

"_No!" she shrieked, the sound echoing through the small chamber. _

"_You will tell me or I will poke this into those pretty green eyes and gouge them from their sockets!" _

_The blade was pointing at her right eye and he raised it and pushed it closer until it was almost grazing her eyelid and she could feel the heat emanating from its point._

.:I:.

There was a flash that lit the veins behind Caitlin's eyelids an angry red, and then a sharp crash of thunder right overhead. She struggled for a moment with sheets and blankets that had tangled tight around her before sitting straight up in bed, her breath coming in sharp little gasps, and she glanced around in confusion for several long moments before she finally realised where she was. That dream had been the most vivid yet – her own terrified shrieks were still ringing in her ears and her arms and wrists felt sore and ached. Shuddering, she reached out and fumbled for the lamp, breathing a sigh of relief when it clicked on and it filled the room with a comforting golden glow. The clock radio said three-thirty. Knowing she would never get back to sleep without something to calm her Caitlin swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood – perhaps a hot drink would do the trick.

Her hands were still shaking when she tried to fill the kettle; so much so that the water slopped against her front and soaked her pyjama top. She shook her head at herself and set the kettle to boil, then fetched a cloth to mop herself up. She opened the fridge to fetch the milk, but a sudden clap of thunder right overhead startled her just as her fingers had closed on the milk bottle, and it slipped from her and smashed on the tiles. Milk spattered over the floor and cupboards. Caitlin forced herself to take several deep, relaxing breaths. _Just the storm_, she told herself, and crossed to her cupboards for a mop and dustpan and brush to clear it up. These however, slipped uselessly from her fingers when she turned back to the puddle on the floor. The milk, instead of lying still in its pool was rippling as though stirred by some breeze, but a frantic glance behind her showed that all her windows were tightly shut – Caitlin shivered as she recognised the phenomenon. As she watched, letters were forming in the puddle as though scrawled there by an invisible hand.

_Did you think that you could escape us so easily?_

The strip light flickered and hummed as Caitlin staggered back against the dresser, staring, eyes wide at the pool of milk. There was a deafening crash of thunder and her lights died altogether, plunging the room into sheer darkness. She scrabbled frantically for her pendant, and she whimpered when her hand came away empty.

Steam was starting to billow from the kettle's spout and movement from the window caught her eyes. She dragged them away from the pool which still sported its message and peered through the darkness; her heart leaping into her throat as she realised that the same message was written there too, droplets of water were dripping down from hastily scrawled words. Her lights were flickering on and off frantically, the message flashing in and out of her vision, the room was freezing now and she was sure that something was tapping on her window and someone was screaming – it took Caitlin a moment to realise that the terrified cries were coming from her. With a mammoth effort she forced her terror back inside her and yelled a single name as long and as loud as she could before they could force her silence. They were not long in acting – something that she could not see kicked her legs from under her and her head slammed into the dresser. She slumped beside it, unconscious.

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**As before, reviews would be much appreciated as I would love to know what people thought; likes, dislikes, suggestions, improvements, what sort of day you're having, what you had for breakfast...anything! Looking forward to hearing from you.**

**xx Valeska**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, how are you doing? Hope everyone had a good week. Sorry this chapter is a bit late, damn uni decided we were slacking off and a 2500 word essay was in order. Grr. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter, you should because our favorite Goblin King finally makes an entrance!**

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When Caitlin finally came to herself there was a sickening pain in her left temple - her stomach was churning so much that for several moments she was forced to lie with her eyes clenched shut; breathing heavily to avoid vomiting. When her nausea had subsided a little, she stretched out a hand and found that instead of the tiles of her kitchen floor there were sheets and blankets beneath her. She cracked open an eye and found herself lying on her own bed, back in her bedroom. It was still dark and thunder rumbled faintly in the distance - the clock radio said four am. Briefly, Caitlin wondered if it had all been just another nightmare, but when she put out a trembling hand and touched her temple there was a tightly swollen lump there. It had been real then.

Someone must have moved her here– but there was none of the suffocating closeness that announced their presence and there was a faint scent in the room that seemed familiar - sweet-smelling spices. Footsteps were coming from her kitchen – heavy footsteps. Caitlin tried to pull herself up so she could hide, but her limbs were heavy and her head spun so much that she had to lie back again. Unable to run or hide she settled for snapping her eyes shut and feigning unconsciousness for the moment. The door creaked open, the footsteps came into the room and paused when they reached the bed.

"I thought you would be waking soon," said a calm, assured male voice from above her. Her heart leapt into her chest on hearing it – she had never quite dared to hope that she could do so again, but still she did not quite dare to open her eyes. He gave a soft sigh and stepped away from the bed, and Caitlin knew that he had not been fooled by her act for a moment. The blackness of her eyelids flared red – the room must now be flooded with light.

"You may open your eyes now Caitlin," he said after a pause, a faint tone of amusement in his voice. Slowly she cracked open her eyelids, wincing at the brightness. Shadows on her ceiling flickered in an odd, bluish light that was somehow unearthly. Caitlin smiled and slowly turned to face him.

Somehow she was not surprised to find that ten years had not changed him in the least. Leaning over her bed, he was the same tall, imposing figure that he had been when she was fifteen, his hair was fluffed in the same unruly style, there was not a single line on his face; he still looked around thirty, though now instead of his armour he wore grey breeches, black heeled boots and a loose cream shirt and cloak. His mismatched eyes held that same slightly haughty expression. Caitlin allowed herself to breathe his name in a relieved sigh. "Jareth."

He bowed. "Who else?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't come," she murmured.

"I promised did I not? He rummaged in his cloak and withdrew her necklace, then bent over her and clasped it around her neck. Caitlin relaxed at its accustomed cooling presence against her skin. Jareth however frowned and bent his head closer to her, his gloved fingers feeling a patch of skin just under the stone that was red and sore from where it had burned her earlier.

"Your talisman grew that hot? When did this occur?" his tone was sharper than she had ever heard it and Caitlin bit her lip guiltily.

"Today, in the office after everyone else had gone. That was why I took it off – it was burning me. I suppose I forgot it when I was leaving."

Jareth pulled back from her and shook his head. "That was an extremely foolish thing to do – you should have called me, as I instructed you, the moment this grew warm against your skin. I would think a woman as well-versed in our lore as you are would have more sense." Childish tears pricked in Caitlin's eyes; she forced them back hastily.

"I know. How did you get it anyway - I left it in my office."

"These objects are not hard to summon – and it is better that you have its protection, especially tonight." He chuckled. "Were you aware that this is our anniversary?"

"Oh – no – I've been so busy lately that I haven't really had time to think – but the storm – that stillness – that was the same."

"Indeed – and I see that you have put the time to great use." He gestured towards the bookshelf in the corner, the bottom shelf of which contained copies of the anthologies that she had been published in.

Caitlin smiled sheepishly. "I suppose you could say you inspired me – I've been writing pretty much since we met."

"Yes – your writing is well researched; your delving deep into folklore has thrown up certain truths about my people that I thought were lost to time – they make your work somewhat refreshing." Caitlin knew without even looking in the mirror that she was blushing a brick-red colour.

"You've read my work?"

"But of course," he said smiling, "I have always kept an eye on literature in the Aboveworld that concerns my people, it is well to know how you will be perceived when you make an appearance here, and I was pleasantly surprised to see how well the child I knew has come on." His mouth was twisted in a teasing smirk, but seeing her expression he stopped smiling. "Truly my dear, I enjoy your work and am glad to see that you have made such a promising start to a career. It is good to see more writers working to change the way that people perceive the fair folk. But enough of that – I must still learn of what happened to you tonight. Wait there, I will return in a moment."

He left the room – Caitlin could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, but a wave of dizziness and nausea hit her and she swayed dangerously for several long moments, struggling to stay conscious. Strong hands suddenly caught her and pushed her gently back down on the bed.

"Don't try to get up so fast; you hit your head quite hard." He reached out for something on the bedside table, and turning her head Caitlin saw that beside the crystal were a bowl of water and a cloth. He damped the cloth and squeezed it out, then laid it gently over the lump on her forehead. She sighed softly as the ache in her head eased a little – the dizziness and nausea subsiding as she lay still on her back. Jareth had perched on the edge of her computer chair – and she noticed as she peered through the light of the crystal how exhausted he looked. His eyes were red and bloodshot and his clothes appeared rumpled - Jareth had always struck her as a man who never had a hair out of place if he could help it. It was certainly odd.

"You had better tell me what has been happening - it was the Hogmen again who attacked you tonight – I assume it was their tricks with the writing that finally made you call me," he said, "though I did not catch more than a glimpse of them, they ran away as soon as I arrived. Why they suddenly converged upon your office and home tonight I cannot fathom - it is not as though you pose any threat to them."

Caitlin pulled herself higher up against the pillows. "It isn't exactly sudden," she muttered.

"What do you mean?" said Jareth sharply - Caitlin winced at his tone. "Have they attacked you before now?"

"I - no they've never attacked me - they've never really let me know they were there before tonight - but for the past few weeks I've had - well - hints of them I suppose - I've thought I've seen movement out of the corner of my eye but when I turn towards it there's never anything there - and sometimes when I'm alone I think I hear pattering footsteps - although of course there's nothing when I look. And then there's that stillness - almost oppressiveness in the air - like that night."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Yes. A few times I've had strange dreams – but today they stopped feeling like dreams – they've grown far too vivid."

Jareth's looked intrigued. "Describe them to me."

"Well – when they started they were always the same - I'd be at some gathering, always a different one where I didn't know anyone, waiting for a man I know, only I can't remember his name or who he is. Everyone else there would act really friendly but somehow I knew they weren't to be trusted, and I know that somehow I'm different from them."

"And what of your beau? Did you ever meet him?" Jareth asked.

"No never – but that's the strange thing – today the quality of the dreams changed – for one thing they grew far more vivid, and then they progressed from the gathering. When I went to bed tonight the dream continued from where I'd left off last time – I realised that he wasn't coming and somehow I knew it wasn't safe to stay at the ball I was at so I tried to run but they followed me. Then my neighbour woke me coming back, and when I got back to sleep they - they had me chained up in their dungeon – and this dwarf wanted me to tell him everything I knew about him and his plans." Caitlin trailed off and looked at Jareth – his eyes looked graver and she thought she could see a note of concern in them. He motioned to her to continue.

"I – He wanted me to tell him everything I knew but – I didn't even know his name!" Not that I'd have told them anything anyway – but he'd heated a blade in the brazier – he was going to –" Caitlin realised that she had started to tremble as she spoke and thought she could detect a hysterical note in her voice. Jareth got up and caught her shoulders.

"Hush now, you have told me enough for the moment. I assume that at that point something woke you?" She nodded. "I see. Well, I cannot be sure about what has been happening to you – but I can make a good guess. Rest a while though; I need to think on this."

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**As always reviews would be much, much appreciated, they don't even have to be long; I'd even settle for a couple of words! See you all next week. Thanks to Mary Chapman, notwritten and The Brat Princess for your reviews, I love you guys!!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, I'm back! Here's your new chapter, hope you enjoy it. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original charactors, and the half a bottle of whole milk in the fridge. So don't drink it. :P**

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Caitlin leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes, trying to get the image of the dwarf as he held the hot blade closer and closer to her face out of her head. She looked at Jareth – but his brows were furrowed and he was not looking at her – lost in thought. She almost smiled as she remembered that he had been just as bad when they had first met.

She had been fifteen then, and a dreamer. At that age most schoolchildren still have a marked distrust of anything different, so Caitlin was avoided instinctively and at the time it had not even occurred to her to mind. When at home she was always in her room with her books and stories she made up in her head – though at that point she had not yet tried to write them down. Her teachers often despaired about her – her schoolwork could be of high standard when she tried but unless a subject was of particular interest to her she would only give the minimum amount of work that she could get away with – and was usually too wrapped up in her own dreamworld to care.

That had been how it had started that night – she remembered with a smile; Miss Jameson, the P.E. teacher had finally snapped when, after proving herself useless on the hockey field on a cold November day, she been banished to the lowly duty of keeping score – and had entirely failed to manage that. After a ten-minute lecture in front of her disgruntled team-mates Caitlin had been made to stay behind an hour after school and tidy the games cupboard. She had spent the time restlessly folding nets and stacking bats up neatly, looking nervously at the sky as it darkened with the twilight and gathering rain clouds. There had been a strange sense of stillness in the air that evening - close and muggy as though it were going to storm, though this seemed unlikely on what had been such a chilly day. Miss Jameson, noticing the threatening rain had offered her a lift back to the Forrester farm, but Caitlin Forrester, her pride touched by the indignity of being kept behind had refused the offer and marched out of school alone.

_She regretted her decision almost as soon as she had made it; by the time she had caught the late bus back to Greyston village near the farm the black clouds were spitting a light drizzle and promising a deluge to follow. The usual haunt of the local teenagers; the wall by the village chip-shop was emptying fast as they were driven in by the rain, and Caitlin stared wistfully after them, her heart sinking as she glanced up at the clouds. She swung her schoolbag higher onto her shoulder and turned away towards home._

_It was darker still and raining harder by the time she had reached the farm track and climbed awkwardly over its gate – she had to rummage in her bag for the small torch her mother made her carry for emergencies and click it on. It was about two miles from here to home – the path wound through neighbour's fields and then through the forest before it came to their farm. The air of stillness was even more apparent now that she was away from the village – there were none of the usual birdcalls and even the sheep – generally so vocal in their protests when she crossed into their field stood silent and huddled together in one corner. An uneasy knot tightened in her stomach as she passed them, and she quickened her pace; trainers sliding in the damp ground._

_A mile later and the driving rain settling on the torch-glass was making it harder and harder to see the path, and when its dim glow eventually picked out the trees she realised she had managed to stray several feet from the stile that marked the entrance to the forest. She crossed to it hastily and raised one leg to swing it over the top bar, then something made her pause. The sense of stillness that had been present since the late afternoon was suddenly easing as the last rays of sun slipped beneath the horizon – distantly she could hear the sheep calling fretfully to one another; she was struck by the mental image of them huddling closer against their dry-stone wall. None of the little light left was penetrating under the trees – and from where she stood it seemed as though the forest were swallowing the light to choke it under the trees._

_Caitlin had to take a deep breath before she shook her head at her own foolishness and forced herself to scramble up the stile and down its other side. Once inside the trees protected her a little from the driving rain, she wiped the torch glass dry on her school-skirt and found that it had grown a little easier now to pick out the path ahead as it wound between the trunks. Still as she began to walk she found that it wasn't quite so easy to dispel her fears - the forest was filled with many sounds now; trees creaked and groaned and the leaves hissed – yet there was no wind that she could feel on her face. There was something different in the air too - a sharp scent that almost seemed to cut her nostrils as she breathed it in. _

_It was a ten minute journey through the woods to the Forrester farmhouse and from the fringes of the trees you could usually see its lights. Caitlin stared ahead of her looking for them as she walked for what seemed like hours, starting at the little splashes of raindrops and at grunts and scuffles in the undergrowth that she told herself were probably just night animals searching for shelter. Old, childish fears were creeping back into her mind no matter how hard she tried to ignore them – the whispering leaves sounded as though they were calling her name – yet still she could feel no wind that could stir the trees. As the minutes slowly slipped by, it struck her that it did not matter how much you laughed at your childhood fears in daylight or how grown up you became – the moment night fell and you were far enough away from anywhere that no-one could hear you scream everything you had feared could be real._

_Caitlin swung her bag higher onto her shoulder. In years gone by she had used to take this path at a run so she could be through the forest as fast as possible, an idea which now seemed to her to be extremely sensible. She ran, the torch beam jolting up and down with the movement of her body and her bag slapping against her back. The leaves whispered louder and louder – she was sure now that they were calling her name - her trainers squelched as the muddied ground sucked at her feet, and finally she was sure that she could see the glimmer of lights of the farmhouse when the inevitable happened. A protruding tree-root, one she was always conscious to avoid when it was light snatched at her foot and she fell hard to the ground, her torch flying from her hand. It slammed into a tree-trunk, there was a tinkle of breaking glass and the beam snapped out._

**Ah, sweet cliffys. Ok that's your lot until next week. As always plretty please with sugar on review? Even one sentence is like gold-dust to me.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, look who's back? So, so sorry I've been away for so long, and I'm afraid I have no excuse for it except simple laziness *shuffles feet*. Anyway, here's your chapter, only a short one this time but the next one will be much longer. Hope you like it. Please R & R - would be much appreciated :-).**

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_There was indeed a light gleaming ahead of her – yet its quality was subtly different from the one she had sometimes seen on late trips down this path – it was not a steady yellow glow like electric light bulbs but dim and flickering like a lantern. Shrugging, she shook her damp hair out of her eyes and set off towards the light, reasoning that there must have been a power-cut to the farmhouse and they were using candles to light the kitchen – it was not unknown. _

_Caitlin followed the light for as long as she could while convincing herself that she must be getting closer to home, but what seemed like hours later she was no nearer to it and the trees about her were still as thick as ever. She slumped against a tree-trunk, telling herself that she was only pausing to catch her breath. The rain was pouring down heavier now, her clothes were soaked and she was shivering. After struggling for a few moments Caitlin broke down and dissolved into quiet sobs. She was entirely lost now – there was no chance of getting home by herself and there was no-one near her for miles that she could call out to – and the situation was entirely her fault. If only, she thought as she sobbed, she had kept control of herself and not run, had not fallen and let the torch smash. If only she had allowed Miss Jameson to give her a lift to the farm, if only she had for once paid attention in PE and not aroused her teacher's wrath – she could be home now and eating dinner with her family. _

_The leaves began their whispering song again, startling Caitlin out of her sobs. It seemed louder and more insistent than ever now, and when she looked up the flickering light still shone through the rain a little way up the slope as though it were waiting for her._

_She knew she must have walked a long way – for through all her walk she had not felt the path she had been on under her trainers yet when she had fallen she had been only a few feet from it, and the ground below her, instead of being entirely flat sloped upwards somewhat. She knew it must have moved, she knew that whatever was happening to her was not right and was not safe, but she could not stay here all night – not with the cold and the rain, and the light was all she had left to follow. Choking back a sob, she forced her legs up the steep rise. _

_The light was flickering dimly a little way up the slope, yet no matter how far she climbed it never seemed to grow any closer. Tears of cold fear and frustration pooled in her eyes – she was crying now as she climbed, and the whispering of the leaves seemed to grow louder the higher she went. She did not know how long she climbed for; twice she tripped and fell but when she struggled up again the light was always waiting for her. Eventually the sloping ground seemed to be easing a little. Was it her imagination, or did the light seem a little closer now? A few steps later, and she was sure it was. Taking a deep breath, she put on an extra bust of speed and struggled up the last of the slope, blood was trickling from her knee, the ground was level now, and the light was definitely closer –though she could see a little figure carrying it a little way off. She launched herself into a run behind it, she was twenty feet away now, then ten, then five and then - _

"_NO!"_

_Harsh fingers closed around her arm from behind and dragged her backwards; Caitlin screamed in frustration, the light winked out and the scene was plunged into darkness. The stranger shouted something in a language that she could not understand while keeping a tight hold on her arm – from his voice she could tell that he was male and sounded furious. The moment his tirade was over there was a sharp crack and flash of light just in front of her, and for a moment a wizened little figure carrying a lantern was illuminated a few feet away, actually floating in the air near the edge of a precipice that was not a foot before her. Then the figure vanished and everything was dark again. A sharp scream split the air, and it was a few moments before Caitlin realised that it was coming from her. The figure carrying the light had led her right through the forest to the top of the rocky crags on its eastern edge – and one more step and she would have plunged straight over the edge and down a seventy foot drop to more rocks below._

_The stranger suddenly clamped a hand down over her mouth._

"_Quiet now, it is alright," he said. _

_His touch shocked Caitlin into silence, and as soon as she was quiet he removed his hand, but with his other pulled her back a few feet and away from the edge of the precipice. He dropped her arm, there was a pause – and then the scene flooded with a strange light that Caitlin, blinking, realised emanated from a crystal ball clasped in the stranger's free hand. She turned and looked up at him in this new light and could not hold back a gasp of astonishment. The stranger was a tall and powerful looking man in a long swirling cloak and black leather breastplate, black breeches and black heeled boots. His hair was long and blonde, and fluffed into an unruly style of different lengths that she had never seen before. The crystal in his hand did not seem to be connected to any power source, nor could she see any filament inside of it. The light it cast had an odd bluish quality to it that was somehow unearthly. _

"_W-who are you sir?" she ventured._


	6. Chapter 6

**Gosh my dears, it has been a while. How are we all? Update for you, hope you like it, please R&R. May not update this babe for a while, have another one in the Van Helsing category I need to get down to, but fear not, I do not attempt to abandon it :).**

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"_I am Jareth of the Leanan Sidhe, King of the Goblins," he said. Caitlin looked at him questioningly. "The fair folk?" he tried, "The Good People? The Fae?"_

_She recognised the final name he mentioned; her grandmother had sometimes used the old fashioned term. _

"_The Fairies you mean?" Jareth looked down at her disdainfully._

"_Certainly not – Fairies are stupid and excessively vain – in my realm we see them simply as pests - the Sidhe are so much more." At her uncomprehending look he sighed and turned away from her, pausing when he reached the cliff's edge. "And yet, we seem now to have passed out of the common knowledge - why, two hundred years ago no man would have dared to stir out of doors on Hollantide when the Hogmen move their abode."_

_Caitlin shook her head in confusion – unable to take anything he said in. To her fairies were beautiful miniature humans with insect-like wings who might even grant you wishes if you caught them – Jareth could be taken as a human. Yet when she studied him closer she realised that just like the light, his appearance was somehow different; his skin held and unearthly pallor and around his eyes where it glittered slightly. His eyes themselves were mismatched; one blue, the other brown, and his eyebrows were oddly short and arched. He raised one questioningly as he caught her staring, and Caitlin flushed._

"_Well?" he said, "I have introduced, and explained myself – it is courteous for you to do the same."_

"_I-I'm Caitlin – Caitlin Forrester."_

"_Ah, Caitlin – that is a name that we have in our realm. Tell me then Caitlin, what were you doing in the forest at this hour?"_

"_I was trying to get home – our farm is on the southern edge of the forest – but my torch broke when I was almost there and I thought that - thing – was the light from the farmhouse." Jareth nodded and gave her a long and searching look that made her somehow uncomfortable. His brow furrowed as he stared at her he seemed lost in thought. After a few moments she felt she had to break the tension somehow, so she asked; "Was that thing I was following Sidhe then?" _

"_No." he replied, finally looking away, "Your kind would call that a Will o' the Wisp – a light resembling a flame that sometimes appears in remote areas – but what carries the light is a creature who delights in leading travellers astray -," Caitlin cut him off incredulously. _

"_Astray? That thing tried to kill me – it would have killed me if you hadn't come!"_

"_Yes, and I believe that it was I who saved your life tonight, so I will take less of the insolence from you. I am attempting to explain."_

_Caitlin flushed; her parents and teachers alike were always telling her to control her outbursts. A little ashamed by his reprimand, she closed her mouth, and Jareth nodded and continued. _

"_I rule the Kingdom of the Goblins in the Underground – that is the fae's own name for their realm. My own goblins have – shall we say a mischievous streak and on the rare occasions when they enter Aboveworld they delight in confusing mortals in that manner – though none would ever knowingly harm any they met. That creature however was of the Hogmen whose kingdom borders mine. Their ruler cares little for humans and his subjects have little regard for any that they meet – I suppose the one that you met had been consorting with my goblins and decided to imitate them but in a more savage manner. It is odd though, I have rarely seen a Hogman seeking out a mortal at random for sport."_

_Caitlin shuddered and then began to shiver, something that once she started she could not seem to stop. Jareth looked her over; taking in her soaked clothing, wet hair and cut knee. He sighed. "It is late and you are cold. Come, I will return you to your home." He held his hand out to her, but Caitlin drew back nervously. Jareth again raised one eyebrow. _

"_You can either allow me to escort you home safely or you can wait here without my protection and risk that Hogman returning." _

_Caitlin knew that he was right. Wordlessly, she reached out and took his hand. _

_She could remember little about their journey back – her mind had been reeling from all that Jareth had told her and she had allowed him to lead her wherever he wished without paying much attention to where they were going. When her shivering became obvious he stopped and removed his cloak, wrapped it tightly around her shoulders and had reclaimed her hand and led her on again before she had chance to say a word. She remembered that it had smelt of sweet spices. It did not seem long to her before the lights of the farmhouse – real, yellow, electric lights, were in view between the trees, and soon after Jareth was holding open the farm gate for her. They stopped a few feet from the back door, and Caitlin could see her mother watching anxiously out of the kitchen – but they were just out of her line of sight. Jareth had not released her hand, and when she looked back at him she saw that he was rummaging in his breastplate for something, which he withdrew a moment later clasped in his hand. _

"_Here," he said, closing her fingers around it before she could see what it was. "Keep this on your person – it will grow warm when there are fae who would harm you nearby and will provide some protection from them. If you should ever need help of that sort again, call me and I will come." His hands were unclasping the cloak from her throat as they spoke, and he swirled it around his shoulders, "It has been a pleasure to meet you Caitlin," he said, smiling, then bent and placed a brief kiss on her forehead._

"_But why –" – _would they come after me again _she had been about to ask – but Jareth had vanished. Caitlin stared at the spot where he had stood for a while, then with a heavy sigh turned back to the door, and wondered what excuse she could give her mother for the state she was in._

Jareth had given her a little stone, worn smooth as though it had lain underwater for years, with a little hole in the middle. It was an object that her grandmother had always considered to be good luck – and later – when Caitlin had exhausted every book their local library possessed on fairies and Irish mythology – she had realised that the object was considered to give protection of a sort from hostile fae. Jareth had at least been telling the truth about that – yet though she knew it was possible that he had engineered the whole thing as a trick to play on her, for some reason she had never really accepted that explanation. At the time she had had neither friends nor enemies who might have considered a joke like that to be funny. There had been something about the whole escapade that seemed real; the odd feeling of expectancy and waiting that she had felt, the changing sound of the leaves when there had been no wind – that would have been hard to stage, and the way that the light had never seemed to get any closer. Jareth too, had added to this impression; his clothes had looked high quality and he wore them with an unconscious grace that seemed to point to his having done so all his life, his speech and manner implied his being used to being obeyed, and his odd eyes and eyebrows had not smeared in the rain as they would have done had they been makeup.

She had never seen Jareth again, but she had always kept the stone on her - first tied around her neck with a piece of string, then later she had saved and bought a long silver chain for it so she could tuck it away under her clothes.

.:I:.

"Caitlin." Someone was shaking her shoulder. Caitlin muttered something irritably and tried to pull away but their grip was too strong. She opened her eyes to find Jareth leaning over her. "I must leave you now my dear," he said, "there are things I must attend to in my kingdom. Ah, do not worry," he said in response to her nervous look at this news, "I will return tomorrow evening and we will discuss this further, never fear. Your talisman will keep you safe from anymore attacks as long as you _keep it on your person." _

Jareth pulled her hand up from the coverlet and kissed it in farewell, Caitlin smiled at the courtly gesture, but this faded as a furrow appeared between Jareth's brows.

"What is this?" he asked, pulling up the sleeve of her pyjama top to reveal an angry red mark on her wrist. He turned her wrist and revealed that continued there too; running around it in a circle like a bracelet.

"I – I don't know," she murmured – knowing full-well that there was nothing that she had done in the last few days that would have created a mark like that. Jareth released her hand and caught the other in his, pulling back the sleeve again to reveal the same mark there too. Deep indentations of chains on her wrists. An icy jolt went through her stomach and she slumped numbly back into the pillows, barely aware that Jareth was pulling the cover back to check her ankles for the same marks, his frown deepening as he looked. He replaced it and sat down on the bed beside her.

"How?" She was trembling now and suddenly felt cold.

"I do not know Caitlin," he said. "They have become more insistent than ever to learn what I know."

Caitlin stared at him. "What? You know why they've done this? Tell me!" Jareth shook his head sadly.

"Now is not the right time for that child, but the Aboveworld is no longer as safe for you as I thought. They have little influence in another's kingdom – you must come back with me to mine."


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